


Bat-Family: A Place of Her Own - Part 1

by Talyesin



Series: Bat-Family [1]
Category: Bat-Family - Fandom, Batman (Comics), Catwoman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 10:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15683220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talyesin/pseuds/Talyesin





	Bat-Family: A Place of Her Own - Part 1

Selina rolled over.

Moonlight spilled through the window, split into rectangles by the lattice. The bedroom was bigger than her apartment – the little one she shared with Holly, not the larger one she shared with Harley and Ivy when they were out of Arkham.

In the moonlight, the ring on her finger sparkled so brightly, the enormous diamond refracting the light, shattering it. It was a little ridiculous, honestly, a ring that horrifically expensive could feed a family in Crime Alley for a year. But it was hers, somehow, given to her by the man sleeping quietly at her side.

In comparison to the moon’s blue-white rectangles on the floor and wall, the rest of his bedroom – our bedroom, she reminded herself, ours – was cloaked in inky darkness. Her normally better-than-average night vision would have picked out the desk, the long low dresser, the ornately carved vanity he’d dragged in here that had been his mother’s when she’d begun spending more nights here than away. But the moonlight ruined whatever night vision she might have had. 

Light can obscure, and darkness, reveal, she thought, not for the first time.

She flipped her pillow over onto the cool side and tried to settle in. Insomnia had never been a stranger, but this felt different.

It’s the cats, she thought. I just miss them. 

She lay there, convincing herself she could fall asleep, she would fall asleep, any minute now, for another twenty minutes before quietly pushing off the covers and silently padding over to the vanity chair where she’d tossed her sweater.

As she pulled it over her head, Bruce said, “It was an act of purist optimism, us trying to go to sleep before midnight.”

“Did I wake you?” she asked, knowing she’d been as silent as she had ever been. Only Cassandra was more silent, Damian’s efforts to dethrone his sister as ‘Stealth Queen’ notwithstanding.

“No.”

He rolled over in the bed – his bed, their bed, it didn’t matter, it meant everything – and looked at her.

After a pause in which he studied her body language, a pause that took no more than a second or two, he asked, “Shall we take in the night air?”

She glanced at the walk-in closet, itself bigger than her apartment’s living room, knowing the secret door and hidden elevator inside would take them down to the Batcave.

“Or did you have other… nocturnal entertainment… in mind?”

She could feel him smirking from across the room, and rather than give him the satisfaction of a reply, she stood and sauntered to the closet. If she put a little more sway in her walk as enticement, as punishment, as playful flirtation, well, he only had himself to blame for that clumsy attempt at seduction. She was rewarded with the sound of the down comforter being thrown off and the sudden not-quite-silent padding of his feet, following after her.

The elevator was a wrought-iron antique that had been a part of Wayne Manor for over a hundred years, installed by one of Bruce’s ancestors. Selina had a hard time imagining living in the same place for more than a decade, much less several generations spanning centuries, but here they were, using a mechanism built by some philandering Wayne looking for a sneaky way to escape his gentility. That Bruce had commandeered it for his own agenda hadn’t changed the clanking, cramped nature of the iron cage as it lowered them the four stories to the basement, where they transferred over to a much more modern elevator which lowered them the rest of the way to the Cave.

The elevator doors opened into the chamber she thought of as the Locker Room – where their outfits were stored and where they all changed. She went to the case holding her own suit, cowl, and goggles, noticing as she passed the empty cases that all the kids were out, even Damian, who had been told to go to bed two hours ago. Bruce spotted it as well, she knew, from the sudden tension in his shoulders as he donned his armoured outfit. Not the stiff, heavily armoured one, the one he wore when he expected something serious, but the lighter, more flexible outfit, allowing for greater range of movement and stealth. Bruce had offered to design and build her a similar one, offering her greater protection than her simple leather outfit had. She had, firmly but politely, declined.

Then a quick stop at the armoury – her whip, hanging where she’d left it, her gloves with the retractable claws. Bruce took longer choosing his assorted weaponry and gadgets, each decision careful and deliberate. Smoke grenades, flash-bangs, snap baton, batarangs, throwing knives, swingline and grappling hook, and on and on. Some into his belt, others in secret pockets in his suit and cape. How he managed to move at all once he was fully loaded was an amazement.

Bruce’s hand went to a hidden button on the side of his helmet. “Computer.”

“Voiceprint recognition. Good evening, Batman,” the Bat-Computer’s emotionless voice came over the earpiece Selina wore.

“Locations onscreen.”

On the Bat-Monitor a map of Gotham sprang to life; green dots revealed the locations of all of Batman’s protégés. 

“Secure channel to Robin.”

“Channel open, Batman.”

“Robin,” Bruce said, barely keeping his concern out of his voice. “Report.”

“Good evening, Father,” came Damian’s infuriatingly calm voice. “It was my understanding you were taking the night off.”

“Report.”

“I am on patrol with Red Hood.”

“It’s a school night.”

“Tch,” Damian clicked his tongue. Then, “It is. Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat all have school in the morning as well – can I assume they will, or have already received, similar chastisement?”

Seline raised her gloved hand to conceal her smile. Bruce’s only non-adopted child could be a pain, but he could also be damned funny.

Bruce turned from the monitor and headed for the Batmobile. Not the speedy little two-seater he usually took for their nocturnal patrols, but the longer one with room enough for a back seat. “We’ll talk about this when you get home.”

“As you wish. Robin out.”

Selina hurried after her fiancé as he brought the Batmobile’s engine to roaring life, hopping in and buckling the five-point harness. “He hung up on you?”

“He’s going to turn my hair grey.”

“Weeeeell,” Selina said, “at least, you’ll look distinguished.”

Batman gunned the engine and floored it out of the Batcave.


End file.
